


Left Behind

by ArchangelEquinox



Series: Once More to the Breach [7]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-01-12
Packaged: 2019-10-08 14:11:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17387834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchangelEquinox/pseuds/ArchangelEquinox
Summary: It's snowing here, so have some porn to keep you warm! ;)(#6 of a 30 day NSFW challenge, even if there's no chance I'll get it done in 30 days)





	Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> It's snowing here, so have some porn to keep you warm! ;) 
> 
> (#6 of a 30 day NSFW challenge, even if there's no chance I'll get it done in 30 days)

Maker’s breath, she hated when Cullen was gone.  It was so rare that she be the one left behind, left to wander the halls of Skyhold and feel useless while her Commander marched troops across the Orlesian countryside.  Cullen must feel like this all the time, she realized, and she resolved on the spot to try to get him out of Skyhold more often. 

She hated Cassandra a little too for making her stay.  The dragon in the Hinterlands hadn’t been  _ that  _ bad -- she was injured, sure, a little burned on one side and a nearly-healed sprained ankle on the other.  Certainly it wasn’t enough to warrant confining her to Skyhold; she could have ridden a horse by the Commander’s side if only the Seeker would have let her.  

At heart, Talia knew Cassandra’s reasoning was sound: This was Cullen’s first real mission since he’d been sick, his first time leading troops outside Skyhold since he’d recovered enough to ride again.  Sending the Inquisitor might have given his soldiers the wrong impression of his health, or worse, his ability to lead. 

It didn’t change that she hated being left behind.  

She’d already wandered the whole of the keep in the last few hours, stopping to chat with Dorian and Solas, play games with Sera, eat dinner with Varric and Blackwall in the tavern.  Now, as the evening waned, she laughed with Iron Bull, got into a darts competition with Dalish, and argued over fashion with Krem. She dutifully ignored the long trek back to her empty quarters when the night was over.  

At last, however, even she had to admit that the day’s festivities were done.  She needed to go to bed -- her ankle throbbed in her boot, and her head felt too heavy to hold up.  Once Bull confirmed that she wasn’t drunk, just tired, he sent her on her way out the door, aiming her at the stairs leading back to the keep.  

Talia didn’t walk up them.  Instead, she found her way along the courtyard steps to the door to Cullen’s tower.  He always left it unlocked, and so she pushed it open easily, venturing into his office and plopping herself down at his desk.  A carefully written patrol schedule waited on one corner, a pile of reports held in place with an inkwell on the other. The middle of his desk was clear, like he’d purposefully finished everything important before he left.  

That certainly sounded like him.  

She wiggled herself down in the chair, wishing it smelled more like him.  They had so little time to spend together amidst the chaos of the Inquisition, just a few stolen moments here and there to quench that unending desire to be wrapped up in his arms.  Everything happened too fast in their fight against Corypheus; there was always something more that needed doing, something else to force their attention away from whatever was happening between them.  

She hated that too.  

The office fell into darkness as the one candle she’d lit sputtered out.  With a sigh, Talia stood to light another, her attention drifting to the ladder.  She’d been in Cullen’s loft before, but it held a strange new power now, and before she could think it through, she climbed on up.  

It sat in the same darkness as the rest of the office.  

Ignoring the twinge in her ankle, she climbed down, grabbed a candle, and headed back up.  She lit it quickly and set it on the tiny bedside table. It cast a small circle of light, just enough to see that he’d made his bed and folded his laundry before he left.  She traced the blankets on the bed with her fingertips, imagining Cullen tucked beneath them as he snored. No wonder they’d left him in her quarters for so long -- there was no way he’d have been able to climb that ladder when he was sick.  His relief when Cassandra had finally given way must have been immense. 

She glanced around the room, taking in its spartan furnishings.  A book lay open, its spine creased, on the table next to a small cup of water.  And in the corner… was that a tree? Talia gave herself a shake to make sure she hadn’t imagined it.  No, that was definitely a tree in her Commander’s quarters. 

“Oh, Cullen,” she smiled to herself.  He’d adamantly refused to let Gatsi’s men close the hole in his roof, saying that he liked watching the stars in the cool night air; it seemed only right that a tree take root.  If he’d been there, she would tease him about it, but now it warmed her heart to know that he had a space he wanted, where he could feel comfortable and safe -- even if it snowed on him.  

A few steps around the room brought her back to the bed, and she let herself fall back, arms spread.  She shouldn’t be here. Cullen still hesitated to visit her quarters without a legitimate excuse -- certainly he wouldn’t appreciate the attention that her sleeping in his loft might bring if anyone caught her.  

He’ll never know, she reasoned, or at least she wouldn’t tell anyone.  He wasn’t even in Skyhold to catch her; why would anyone else pay attention?  

Having talked herself out of leaving, Talia quickly shed her tunic and boots and blew out the candle.  The bed itself was chilly under the covers, but she couldn’t deny how peaceful it was to relax against the pillow and give in to how much she missed him. 

To her surprise, the loneliness didn’t abate as she lay snuggled up in his bed.  If anything, it made her feel worse -- the sheets smelled like lemons and armor polish and the faint hint of sweat, like he’d been too exhausted to bathe and simply fallen into bed.  She ached to think of how hard he worked, how much responsibility he insisted on carrying on his shoulders. 

Rolling over, she buried her face into the other pillow.  This one smelled more like him than ever, warm and citrusy, and she let herself get lost in it.   Maker, she wanted him to be there beside her. Her body missed him too, she realized, even though they’d never done any more than kiss -- she was vaguely aware of the tension between her legs, strengthening as she tried to push it away.  

She couldn’t touch herself, not here, not now.  They’d only kissed, for Andraste’s sake! Nothing more, nothing else to drive her slowly insane with want as she lay and tried to ignore it.  She burrowed further into the blankets, squeezing her legs together for some relief. 

Instead of soothing her, his smell seemed to invade her senses until she couldn’t stand it anymore.  She flipped over onto her back, letting her eyes drift closed. One hand inched down her torso and slipped under the band of her leggings, slowly like it didn’t count if she pretended she didn’t notice.  Her breath hitched as her fingertips brushed her clit, sending a rush of warmth through her body. 

Running aimless fingers over her core, Talia let herself wonder what it would really be like to have Cullen there with her.  He’d taken no vows of chastity, that much she knew. Whether or not he’d want to share a bed, she didn’t know, but here in the safety of his loft, she could easily imagine.  

She’d even seen him shirtless enough times training in the yard to know she wanted him.  That broad chest, his muscled arms, even the scars that criss-crossed his skin were far more attractive that she wanted to admit.  They’d sparred together before as well, that time she’d fought Rylen and Cullen had stepped in to give her a challenge. Maker, the feel of his sweat-damp skin beneath her as she’d tackled him… She sucked in a breath and rubbed with a little more purpose as she remembered how warm and slick he’d felt, how much she’d wanted to tangle their limbs together instead of demanding he cede the fight.  

Propriety had demanded she not simply grab him by the hand and drag him off to the closest flat surface.  Of course now she wanted more from him than simply a quick fuck, but here, alone in his bed, she could imagine how he’d have followed her eagerly, picking her up to brace her against his office wall and kissing her senseless.  Those strong hands would have peeled her shirt and breastband off, throwing them aside before yanking off her boots and leggings so she could press her bare skin to his. She imagined working a hand between them to undo his belt and breeches, slipping her hand into his smalls the way she was slipping one into her own now, searching for her clit as she imagined finding him just as aroused as she from their fight.  

If only! She wished she’d done it, pulled him with her until she could drop to her knees in his office and set his cock free, hear him pray and swear as she ran her tongue along his thick length and suck his broad head into her mouth.  Wetness flooded her smalls as she imagined she felt his hands tangled in her hair, his cock sliding between her lips, and she abruptly pulled her hand away to wriggle out of her leggings and smalls entirely. 

“Oh, Maker,  _ Cullen _ ,” she groaned softly as she slid her hand down to her core, letting her fingertips graze her clit before she slipped one finger inside herself.  She pumped it slowly, in time with his imaginary thrusts into her mouth. He was too kind not to be gentle the first time, too sweet not to make sure she was okay, and while that would be hot at first, she knew herself.  She’d want him to fuck her hard before too long. 

In her mind, she dragged her lips off his cock, hearing the tiny disappointed noise he’d make before she turned around and presented herself to him.  She slid her finger free, using it to transfer some of her arousal up to her clit, before she pushed two fingers back in, mimicking Cullen stretching her as he seated himself deep inside.  The head of his cock would press against that rough spot inside her walls that felt so good, so deep and right, and she wished he was really there to grab her hips and guide her how he liked as he fucked her.  

The heel of her hand grazed her clit as she rolled her hips, sending heat spiraling through her.  Lonely or not,  _ fuck  _ that felt good.  She pushed harder, letting her hand mimic his calloused fingers as she let the fantasy continue, let this imaginary Cullen reach around to roll her clit under his fingers while he bounced her on his cock.  

Her walls tightened around her fingers as she pumped them faster, and she clapped her other hand over her mouth to silence the cries threatening to break free. Maker, she wanted to know how he really felt!  Would he be gentler than she imagined him now, fucking her slowly and deeply instead of the hard and fast of her mind? Would he whisper sweet nothings in her ear, give a hissed breath of warning that he was close, bite her shoulder to keep himself from crying out as he spilled inside her?  She could almost feel his release, her cunt so hot and leaking as she raced toward orgasm. 

Her hand slid from her mouth to grab her breast as she pictured him grabbing her roughly, keeping her body tight to his as he pushed as deep as possible.  Her fingers squelched obscenely as she pumped them faster, harder, wishing he was inside her, behind her, fucking her, and she couldn’t stop herself from gasping out his name as she finally came.  

She took a long time to come down, fingertips still brushing that sweet spot inside her that made her tremble through the aftershocks.  Eventually she managed a deep breath and pulled her fingers free, wiping them on the sheet before she could quite remember where she was.  

Exhaustion washed over her, but this time, the loneliness was just a little less, a little more tolerable with such a vivid fantasy to keep her warm.  Someday, she reasoned as she wiggled herself down into one of the pillows, she wanted answers to all those questions. For now, however, she just wanted to sleep.  

Cullen would be back tomorrow, and Maker’s breath, she didn’t want him to catch her.  


End file.
